


Prompt: Chained to a Wall- Shiro (Voltron)

by AnaliseGrey



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Torture, Whump, chained to a wall, shiro whump, stress position
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 16:21:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15077033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaliseGrey/pseuds/AnaliseGrey
Summary: for my Bad Things Happen Bingo Card.Sonderquill on tumblr asked: “Chained to a wall” and/or (your decision) “blindfolded”; not sure if you’re wanting characters or not, but I’d love it to be Shiro-centric and possibly platonic sheith?





	Prompt: Chained to a Wall- Shiro (Voltron)

Shiro has always known, in the back of his mind, that the Galra are ruthless. He has a whole year of personal, up-close experience with exactly how brutal the empire is, so he’s not surprised when when he’s captured and they act as expected. They strip his armor plating off, rip off the top of his flight suit with careless claws that leave bloody furrows that sting. They don’t even try to ask him anything, just hurry him along towards a cell, dragging him fast enough he can’t get his feet under him.

He’s pulled into the cell and to the far wall where he can see restraint points much further up the wall than he’s used to seeing. He tries to fight back, to kick, but they’ve completely shut off his right arm, and it’s a dead weight, making him off-balance and clumsy. One of the guards punches him in the stomach, hard, and when he doubles over gasping for air they grab his arms and pull up, lifting him painfully off the floor, closing the cuffs around each wrist. Once the cuffs are secure, they let go and leave him dangling, slamming the door and locking it behind them. Shiro is still recovering from the gut shot, but it’s quickly overtaken by the pain in his arms. It doesn’t take long for his whole left arm to start aching from wrist to shoulder, his hand feeling over-sized and throbbing from lack of circulation. His right arm is only marginally better because he can’t lose feeling the same way in the metal hand. He can already feel the strain on the connection point with his upper arm, though, and with it non-functional, he can’t even flex it properly to temporarily redistribute weight. He tries stretching to see if he can get his feet on the floor, if only for a second to relieve some of the pressure, but even at full stretch he’s still a few inches too short to reach.

He tries to just ignore it, focusing on his breathing instead, but after awhile the pain starts to press in, overwhelming his attempts. He can’t feel his left hand anymore, and when he looks up he can see it’s gone reddish purple, and now he’s worrying about permanent damage. He has no doubt his team will come for him, but he doesn’t know how much damage a cryopod can undo after a certain point.

When the cell door opens and an actual Galra soldier comes in instead of sentries, Shiro knows they’re about to get down to business; stress positions are a common tactic to soften up prisoners before an interrogation. The soldier has some sort of glove on his hand, a bracelet connected by wires to small pads on bands around their fingertips. It isn’t until the soldier reaches out and touches Shiro on his side that he understands what it is. The pain arcs through him, and he screams, trying but unable to twist away from the contact. The motion pulls against already strained muscles in his arms and shoulders, making it worse.

By the time the Galra is done, Shiro is hanging limp from the restraints, unable to do more than whine in pain when the soldier gets a last parting shot in to his ribs. Everything hurts now, his shoulders screaming at him; he’s pretty sure the left one is dislocated. He knows when he’s eventually let down he’s going to have serious bruising and nerve damage from the cuff around his left wrist; it’s still numb, which he knows is bad, but is nonetheless grateful for. Small mercies, he thinks. 

He tries again to breathe through the pain, working hard to imagine his room in the Castle as a focus. He’s had luck with visual memory exercises before as distractions, but this situation is testing his ability to cope.

He loses track of time entirely for a while, only aware of how much he hurts, how he hopes nobody comes into the room because he knows he has limits even if he tries to pretend he doesn’t; he doesn’t want to be given the opportunity to make this stop.

He might take it.

He’s floating in a haze that’s somewhere between dozing and passed out when he hears a commotion in the hall outside the cell door. He looks up as the door unlocks and opens, and oh, thank god.

Keith is on the other side, and when he catches sight of Shiro his face cycles through surprise, anguish, rage, and settles on irritated concern. He turns to one side, and yells for Hunk, then rushes into the room.

“Shiro, hey we’re going to get you out.” Keith drops to his hands and knees in front of Shiro. “Try to brace your feet on my back. Hunk’ll be here in a moment to get you loose since I can’t reach.”

“Not- not sure I can stand.” Shiro rasps out. That and he’s really not looking forward to what it will feel like once the immediate scream of strained muscles is turned down.

Hunk barrels into the room and curses, storing his bayard before coming over and helping Shiro move his legs to brace against Keith’s back. He’s right, he can’t quite stand, but just the small relief it brings from not having all his weight on his wrists is worth it.

Hunk examines the cuffs for a second, then puts one hand against Shiro’s chest to steady him, and reaches up with the other.

“On the count of three, Shiro, ok? I’ve got you, I won’t let you fall.”

Shiro smiles, though it’s tired. “I know you won’t, Hunk. Let’s go.”

“One, two, three.” On three, Hunk pops open the cuff around Shiro’s right wrist, then the other. Shiro’s arms drop like they’re made of lead, and he clenches his teeth around the groan that tries to escape as feeling starts to return, and yeah, his left shoulder is  _ definitely  _ dislocated.

Hunk catches him easily, one arm going around Shiro’s back and the other under his knees, hefting him up. Keith gets up and moves ahead of them, bayard out and ready to dispatch anyone who gets in their way.

He’s safe, they’ve got him. Crisis averted for another day. He sees the lions come into view in the hangar ahead of them, and lets himself pass out.

**Author's Note:**

> Want to say hi, flail about things, ask a question? Come find me on tumblr at [Analisegrey](http://analisegrey.tumblr.com/)!


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